I envy Erin her future opportunities to walk across the stage. Those moments, at the focus, are powerful and beguiling. They are life, writ small and in blood. They are fantasy, writ large and in tears.

They are comedy, and tragedy.

Emily is hilarious. And whenever she tells an insanely funny joke she'll remark "That's going in the stand-up act." And because I am her soul-mate and her complement, I feel it only right that I give equal voice to my own stand-up act.

You see, I hope to someday be a Stand Up Tragedian.

Yup. Someone who does what a stand up comedian does, with the little observations and "Don'tcha just hate it" whens and "Knock Knock" jokes and such, but with a punchline that is tragic rather than comic.

Because the Sad Face of Drama ought to be equally represented at the Improv, I believe.

So, here's a little preview of my act, off the cuff. (Not for those who do not wish to weep.)

"Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Uvga."

"Uvga who?"

"You've got inoperable liver cancer. I'm very sorry."

"Do you ever notice that when you go to the grocery store you can never find a parking space? But there are all of those blue-marked handicapped spaces available right at the front, closest to the door. Because some people have been in life-altering accidents that have left them incapable of living a normal life without some assistance and accommodation."

"So, I was sitting at home the other day and my roommate came in looking dissheveled. I said 'Hey, buddy. Why are you looking so dissheveled?' And he said 'Well, I was pulling into the driveway today and I ran over a box of puppies.'"

So, whaddaya think?

(Editor's Note: It's okay to laugh. The point here is that tragedy provokes similar reactions in us. We laugh almost out of self-defense. I was giggling inappropriately the entire time I was writing this.)

And I'm with scifi dad, I want to see how the mommybloggers--I'm not one--take the dead puppies. You should make mention in your act about how CUTE and ADORABLE they were before they got squished under the wheels of the car.

Mommybloggers, daddybloggers... too many pigeonholes for this visitor... that being said, I printed out this entry and posted it in the mess hall of my ship- you'd fit right in here in the U.S. Merchant Marines.

Sort of like 5 minutes ago when my kids came in with a tiny green caterpillar that they had been tenderly "taking care of" for the last hour, bringing it water and blankets made of kleenex and fresh leaves, etc, and on their way back out the door, the creature fell of the stick to the kitchen floor. Scrambling to find the critter, one of them stepped on it. Oh, the tragedy. All that TLC for naught.

The inoperable liver cancer joke made me laugh loudly and inappropriately. When I read it to my husband he didn't really get it (he laughs at Barney so consider the source).I think you are onto something.

Thanks for commenting on my blog so I could find your blog and sub it. Humor and parenting are my two favorite blog subjects.

Thanks for the visit to my blog. I enjoy your writing style. :) Now....I see you are a hockey fan and I imagine your favorite team is not the correct favorite team (number one Red Wings of course) Who is your fave team? Mine is Wings, Avs (though they SUCKED this series), Stars in that order. Good luck winning the blog visit contest! LOL

Heh. I will admit to having The Gashlycrumb Tinies memorized before I was ten and now we have a collection of twisted children's stories which no doubt Short Stuff will revel in as much as his older sibs.

Hey, why'd the monkey fall out of the tree? It was dead.Why'd the second monkey fall out of the tree? It was stapled to the first monkey.

I will forgive you this once... because I just came to your site for the very first time today... because I saw your "cement expert" response to my post. I'll try my best to laugh at all your jokes from here on out, but ummm... the first, the liver joke, ouch. My Dad died January 2nd this year from inoperable liver cancer. True Story. Go read my blog.

The rest were funny though. We should talk. My husband calls me Murphy because, well I'm sort of a walking-talking replica of Murphy's law. For example...I fell down our stairs a few days ago caring our son and wacked the crap out of the back of my head upon landing, ouch, stood up to soon and fell the rest of the stairs face forward and then knocked the crap out of the front of my head. I'm cool like that. I'd be great for your type of comedy. You either laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh.

Wow. So many more comments...I have to just thank you en masse for coming by.

Also, for those who thought this post really was just a list of dark jokes...well, it's not quite that. I was actually serious about subsituting tragic punchlines into joke forms to elicit tragic rather than humorous responses. Stephanie's father dying of inoperable liver cancer? Not funny. As the punchline of a knock knock format? Still not really funny, but what do we do with sudden feelings of tragedy? Cry? Sometimes. Maybe. Sometimes we laugh, in self-defense.

That's what this post was about. The two faces of the stage, and how closely they are connected. So closely sometimes that our responses are no different, even though we are faced with tragedy rather than comedy.

So, although they can be viewed as jokes full of dark humour, that's actually not what they are. They are full of tragedy, presented in joke form. But it's okay to laugh (that's why I inserted the Editor's Note at the end, because I figured some people might feel uncomfortable; I fear it did too much in that it made it seem like I was just cracking wise in a "Dead Baby Jokes" kind of way. That's not what I was doing.)

Sara Maria: You cannot be a Wings fan if you are also an Avs fan. NOT ALLOWED! Go Wings! Woo!!!!

Giggling inappropriately? Um, yeah. But the ugva threw me off, too. Out loud, of course, you wouldn't have that pronunciation issue, so you better take this one to the streets. Or the stage, whatever. But maybe wear body armour for those without a sense of humour?